Connection

The Spring Crocus

The wild darling on the cusp of spring
The crocus has found its way to the surface
Having traveled over and over
In the same track as its predecessors.

The cold earth has found a softness,
An opening.
And the lush green breathes into me.
The fragileness of new life.

The sun breathes out energy.
The seedlings desperately alchemize
And rapidly transforms.

Their ripe green petals mimicking grass
Kiss and pepper the earth.
I marvel at the emerald blades
That try to camouflage into the lawn.

They are hardy and make the perennial trip.
They wake me from my winter slumber
And remind me, even in the bitter harshness
of cold and darkness,
This too shall pass.

And my heart leaps to join the beauty,
To wear green and lie in the grass
Warm to the touch from the golden sun.

I touch the delicate petals
And thank them for this yearly gentle reminder.
A smile forms on my face.

The mourning doves have returned this year.
I wonder if the young couple will find 
a more hardier, sturdier nesting place.

Nature is the greatest teacher.

Connection

In Winter we take it Inside

Nature is asleep.
The barren trees
A stark contrast
Against the sky.
What once blossomed
A forgotten memory.
What was jubilant 
And alive
Now quiet, small and dark.

I take the cue and
Bring it inside.
Even in winter
I wish to bloom
To continue to grow
In mind and spirit
To stay connected
And tap into my inner
And outer strength.

The plant on my window sill
Finds warmth and nourishment.
The bird’s wing takes flight
In search for what
I know not.
Its determined flight
Beats into the sky.
There is no respite
When on the hunt.

We hunt for 
Warmth and shelter.
We hunt for understanding
And being truly listened to
And seen.

We seek counsel
And acceptance.
In winter we take it inside.
The nature of the season
Demands it.
And I take the cue and bloom.
Connection

FAITH

I circle around the sun
Even though physically
I have stayed and slept
Within the same walls.
It may appear to all my senses
That I embody the same place 
Time and again.
However, the sky tells a different story.

In winter, the sun rises a bit more
To the right in the eastern sky.
Yes, daylight is short.
But the minutes of sunshine
Tack on to the days
Even if I’m not paying attention.

The world is quiet now.
There is less bird song.
Yet if I get quiet
And listen,
I can hear what the winter bird sings.

I circle around the sun
And have faith that
Day will return
After a long wintery night.

I have faith that the season will change
As it always does
And is meant to.

Further evidence that the journey
Around the sun is
Always in motion
Never stagnant
Never ceasing to surprise
And delight.

The momentum forward
Is not always linear.
But I have faith
That I play a part
In the great bird song today
And the song that is not yet sung
But is written on a paper airplane
Caught in a breeze
On its way
To be heard and sung.
Connection

What’s missing these days?

Time to pursue my creativity;
Too many distractions and obligations
That eat away my energy.
And then when it's a good time 
to do the one thing 
I most want to do,
I put it off, yet again.

In the moment,
Dusting the shelf 
just seems easier 
than writing.

Just when I’m getting myself
Motivated to start,
There’s always one more thing to do.
And that seems to take priority
Over my creative pursuit.

What’s missing?

Time to connect to myself and others.
A sense that there isn’t enough time;
That I could or should be doing more.

Although, how can that possibly be true?
What ifs, coulds and shoulds
are easy to be explain and defend
When there’s no evidence
to the contrary.

And it takes me further away 
From my desires, my dreams.
Even though I know the reasons are untrue
That I can prioritize myself,
My creativity,
My movement,
And the momentum gets started again.

Everything ebbs and flows.
Energy and time.
Winter is the season of quiet reflection
Of taking stock 
And not regret for what never was
And couldn't ever be.
Connection

Winter

The cold bitter wind
Nips at my nose and my ears.
I tighten my winter hat
Snug around my head
And walk on.

My legs stride on
Over the sidewalk
Into the street.
A biting chill enters my lungs.
I must walk on.

I marvel at my speed
And surprise myself at the
quickened pace;
Wanting to lighten the load
of thick gloves and
Puffy winter coat.
To feel warm again
To breathe steady and rhythmic.

I throw open the door.
Once I step inside
The heat engulfs me
And I sigh in relief
Unzipping and shedding
Layer upon layer
Forgetting that I’ll have to
Step out into the world
Once again
After the cold has become
A distant memory.

Connection

I marvel at the light

At winter solstice 
darkness dominates the days
And light seems
to fade shortly
after its arrival.
I marvel at the light.

At the sunrise
The neighbor’s chimney smoke
Graceful and floating
Like a dancer in the sky.

The sunset
that takes my breath away
And I linger to look
A little longer.
I marvel at the light.
Everything seems aglow
Orange and burning
Then quick pinks and purple
Gone in a flash.

Over and over again.
I marvel at the light.
I surprise myself
And take it all in.

Darkness may seem to
Envelope and surround.
And the bitter chill 
Nips at my nose.
The light that appears
is just a little bit brighter,
a little bit more alive.
I marvel at the light.

We take in the light
and create our own
Be it holiday lights
Or candlelight.
This little light 
I hold in my hand
It warms our hearts
Through and to
The brighter days ahead.
self-care

A walk in January

It is unusually warm today in the 50s in southern New England.  The piles of snow from last week’s blizzard are starting to melt.  Drops occasionally drip on my head from the historical buildings as I walk on by.  The snow is dirty.  Rain is in the near forecast.  It’s gray and cloudy.  Remnants of holiday cheer are strewn here and there:  bits of broken pine and evergreen and a solo red ornament missing its hook lay on my path.

The snow is melting.  I see the turf of green grass at the edge of a wall.  There’s litter, a cigarette butt, and tiny pine needles reminding me of what once was there.  It’s the kind of day that you wish you could curl up and take a nap or read a book.  Rain is on its way.

Whenever I take a walk, I’m reminded that the simple act of walking clears up my mind and breaks up my workday.  I will go back to my office and eat a cara cara orange, my favorite fruit this time of year.  I’ll enjoy its bountiful juice and eat a piece of sunshine to brighten this dreary day.